“There it was. Or should I say, there she was. Mystery solved. She helped me craft a letter. My husband was having an affair. He felt I had abandoned him when he needed me most. He was an easy mark for any woman. I would pray my husband would have a heart for me. My husband was becoming a new man.”
“Today when I was met with a disproving look, one of shock and full of judgement about her not wanting to toilet train. I confidently shook my head and I proudly said, ‘She will do it. In her own time.'”
“When I walked in, she hugged me. I whispered in her ear, ‘Don’t f*@King ask how I’ve been, because I’ve been better. Now can we please do something about my gray hairs.’ The worst is always ‘time will heal.’ You think every day for the rest of my life I won’t think about her and it won’t break my heart all over again?’ It sends me into an internal rage.”
“When my mom died, I was alone – I was like a cork bobbing in the ocean with no direction.”
“I forgot to send my kid to school with shoes….again. I cry the entire way home. I throw myself a pity party on what my life was supposed to look like. But then I get the little boy who has been handed a very hard life. The teen mom who has nowhere to turn, and the drug addicted mother who lives a life of regret. I will get too attached every single time. And that’s definitely a good thing.”
“The daydreams of twenty-something freedom felt gone. We were just another measured ‘teen mother’ statistic that pigeonholed our future. I was scared and unsure, but my husband never doubted. We didn’t just decide to rock the boat. We decided to sell the ‘boat’ and trade it for a set of wings, a huge dose of optimism, and faith in the unknown future.”
“I’m not talking about romantic love. I’m not talking about the boo hoo’s of a bad break-up. I’m talking the pain of staring into the blank eyes of your child who you would die for, literally die, and never knowing if or what they feel in return.”
“As you both passed the side of my car, your son, still trying to catch up with your pace, made contact with mine. My son threw his cup and flung his head back in frustration. He couldn’t tell me what he needed; he is non-verbal. He didn’t know someone had noticed him, someone called him his friend.”
“My 6-year-old’s pediatrician stared him straight in the eyes and ordered, ‘You stay away from cigarettes. Your lungs can’t handle it.’ There are some struggling who didn’t choose this fight. Let’s not forget them. The air you exhale is the same air we breathe.”
“I told her it would have been more fun with a friend in tow. I thought she’d tell me to stop outsourcing my needs to other people and start spending more time with the man I married.”
